


Stag

by Antosha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Debauchery, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Drunk Luna Lovegood, Drunk Sex, F/M, Group Sex, Implied Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Jealous Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood Being Luna Lovegood, Multi, Not Like Any Other Antosha Story, Pansexual Luna Lovegood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Post-War, Revenge Sex, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Stripper Blaise Zabini, The Quidditch Pitch: More Than Two, Threesome - F/M/M, Village People References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha
Summary: It's Ron and Harry's stag party, and someone unexpected pops out of the metaphorical cake. (Harry/Luna/Ron, with implied Ginny/Blaise/Hermione. Written pre-DH.)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 19





	Stag

**Author's Note:**

> One day, fellow [](https://flamingnargle.livejournal.com/profile)[**flamingnargle**](https://flamingnargle.livejournal.com/) r [**corvidae9**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidae9) and I were talking about Harry/Ginny/Luna, its rising :shudder: popularity (kidding, kidding), and my One Bad ThingTM theory — that any non-canon relationship fic written post-HBP required at least One Bad Thing to happen before you could believably make it work (Flaming Nargles notwithstanding, of course, since that seemed canon-ish to us). She tossed off a couple of other believable alternate threesomes and possible OBTs of lesser severity that might bring them together.... and we [jokingly challenged each other to a 'smut-off.' ](http://corvidae9.livejournal.com/254136.html?thread=1159096#t1159096)She said she'd work on a Neville/Ginny/Hermione piece, I think. (Go Neville!)  
>   
> I said that Harry/Luna/Ron had the makings of a wonderful, angsty 'survivor' trio. But then I decided to take them somewhere... different.  
>   
> So here is yet another of the kinds of fic I never really imagined myself writing: a drunken orgy. At a bachelor party. Oy.
> 
> **Warnings:** Polyamory. Debauchery. Really. No fluff here at all. Very little angst. Some humor. This is as close to PWP as I can stand to write. Not your typical Antosha fic.

“Can’t believe we’re actually sitting here quietly like it’s just another Friday night,” Ron muttered, taking a pull from the bottle of oak-aged mead that Harry had bought him as a joke. He’d already polished off an impressive amount of the vodka that Charlie had provided.

“Well,” Harry said, waving his eighth snifter of firewhisky at the disaster that was their flat, “we had a nice little stag bash, didn’t we? Sent your brothers home properly pissed.”

“ _Home_ , yeah, right,” Ron snorted. “Bill, maybe. Percy, sure. But I’d be willing to bet that the twins and Charlie, Neville and them are off giving our single days a proper send off, and here we are winding down for a good night’s sleep. I mean…”

Smiling, Harry said, “I suppose I know what you mean. But I’m not planning on getting a whole hell of a lot of sleep _tomorrow_ night. You?”

Ron blushed, as Harry had known that he would—whether at the idea of Harry enjoying _conjugal relations_ with his sister or at his own soon-to-be-legitimate debauchery with Hermione, Harry wasn’t sure. “No,” he grunted, taking another swig.

They sat there in silence, surveying the thoroughly be-messed sitting room for some minutes. Harry knew that they should clean up—this flat would be Ron and Hermione’s after the honeymoon, and she wasn’t likely to appreciate coming home for the first time to upturned furniture and four-letter words painted on the walls. Still they sat, however, more than mildly drunk and hugely content.

He was _marrying Ginny_. Unbelievable. It was if his whole life—every horrible accident and wonderful, serendipitous happenstance had been pushing him to this place, this time. Into her thin, strong arms. Her thin, strong fingers…

After tomorrow, no more having to sneak or hide. He could take her hand, tell Arthur and Molly they were going upstairs, and fuck her until she screamed, and nobody would mind. They’d probably be _pleased_!

“We’re marrying them,” Ron said blinking up at the flashing letters on the wall opposite: _Bollocks_! it read in alternating purple and red.

“Yeah,” Harry answered.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said.

“Yeah.”

“You… happy?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said.

Ron grinned. “Me too.” He lifted the mead, Harry lifted his firewhisky, and for the fiftieth time that night, they toasted their luck.

After another silence, Harry asked, “What do you think the girls are up to?”

“Well, I know Parvati and Lav-lav were going to throw them a hen party, but come on,” Ron said dismissively, “you know Hermione’s had them both home and in bed for hours.”

Harry nodded and glanced at his watch: almost 1:00. “Speaking of which—“

A loud _thunk_ sounded from the front door, and then two more.

“Bloody hell,” Ron grumbled, “that’s got to be the twins come back to paint on the walls some more.”

Harry waited for Ron to get the door; his friend barely moved.

Three more _thunks_ thudded against the door.

Resenting having to budge from his comfy chair, Harry groaned his way to his feet and shuffled over to the door. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, reaching out to the nob.

Opening the door, he expected to find Fred and George, pissed out of their minds. Or perhaps Neville held up by Dean and Seamus.

What he didn’t expect to find was Luna Lovegood, her lipstick smeared (since when did Luna wear lipstick?), her blouse unbuttoned to her navel and her black skirt down around her hips, revealing a red lace bra and sky blue knickers.

At least she was wearing a bra and knickers. “Hullo, Harry. I’m very invert… inebriate.”

“Uh. Hello, Luna.” Harry was having a hard time not staring down his friend’s unsuspectedly canyonous cleavage. “Uh. How was Hermione and Ginny’s hen party?”

“Still going,” Luna sighed. She threw her arms around Harry’s neck and gave his cheek a wet kiss. “Mmmmm. Hullo, Ronald,” she said blearily, stumbling towards Ron, her breasts rubbing past Harry’s chest in a most diverting way.

Ron blinked at Luna as she floated across the room toward him. “Bloody hell, Luna. You’re pissed.”

She stopped and looked down. “No, Ronald. I seem to have maintained control of my bladder so far.” Stepping toward him again, she tripped over an empty bottle and flopped across Ron’s knees. “Wee!”

Ron stared down at Luna’s backside—the skirt had now flopped up onto her back, revealing her knickers not only to be blue, but semi-transparent. His chin trembling uncertainly, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, Ron looked to Harry for aid.

Transfixed by a backside as surprisingly round as the topside had proved to be, Harry was at a loss to give any. “Uh… Luna?”

“Wee!” their friend giggled again, wriggling facedown across Ron’s lap. Ron remained motionless.

“Luna,” Harry repeated somewhat more steadily, “what brings you here?”

“Well,” Luna said, still folded across Ron’s thighs, “Ginny and Hermione wouldn’t let me share, so I decided I’d come here and be your Blaise.”

Over the years, Harry had learned to count to ten to give himself time to think Luna’s statements through. Knowing himself to be somewhat swozzled, he counted a full fifteen. “I’m sorry, Luna,” he said finally, “I don’t understand.”

Ron nodded enthusiastically, his eyes fixed on the ceiling—as far from Luna’s posterior as he could get them.

“Oh,” Luna said in tone of the mildest possible surprise. She began to push herself upright, one hand on the floor, the other on… some part of Ron that caused his eyes to bulge more than Luna’s own. She wobbled to a standing position, teetered and plopped back into Ron’s lap, sitting this time. “I fell,” she said, her head lolling back against Ron’s shoulder.

Ron squeaked. Harry hadn’t heard him squeak in years.

“Luna,” Harry said, trying to keep his I-may-be-drunk-but-I’m-reasonable voice going, “I’m afraid we’re still in the dark as to why you’re here.”

“Ah,” Luna said. “Well, I told you. I tried to climb up on the table with Hermione and Ginny and Blaise, but they wouldn’t share.”

“On the table?” Ron rumbled.

“Yes. I said. Hermione and Ginny and Blaise where there on the table. I would have folded myself in anywhere, you know.”

“What were they doing on the table?” Ron asked.

Harry had a very vivid idea of where this was headed, but somehow couldn’t manage to stop the train.

“Well, Ronald, I would have thought that was obvious. I’ve heard you and Hermione often enough that I know you’ve got a clairly fear idea…” Luna shook her head, her hair flying in Ron’s face, and she giggled. “Fair. Ly. Clear.”

Harry’s stomach seemed to be filling with something cold and heavy.

“Ronald, I wish you wouldn’t keep poking my bottom, it’s most distracting,” said Luna, wriggling in a most distracting manner.

“So,” Harry managed to say, trying vainly to hope that this would all end well, “Blaise… took his clothes off?”

Luna nodded and began to sway against Ron, causing him to begin to turn even a deeper shade of red. She began to sing breathily, “’I want to be, a…’ Did you know he’s been working as an escort? Really a good job for him, I think, suits his temperament and his skill set quite nicely. In any case, I always find having sex with him lovely—his stamina is quite remarkable—and of course, I’ve always wanted to have sex with Ginny, and Hermione too, when it comes to that—"

“Sex,” Ron said. Well, it was more a hiss than a statement, really. “Sex. Hermione. Blaise. Sex.”

“Oh, yes,” Luna said. “He’d already done quite a nice job with Ginny, you see—and Ginny really had done a lovely job of entertaining Hermione in the meantime, she really does have the most talented tongue, that girl.”

Harry groaned.

“In any case, when he began to take care of Hermione—" Ron groaned. “—Ginny looked so all alone, and so lovely, and I thought I’d go on up with them and help out, but—"

“They said no,” Harry muttered.

“Yes,” pouted Luna, “but they wouldn’t share, and Lavender and Parvati started pulling me down, and I never did like them, you know, though Susan and Padma were trying to talk them into at least letting me watch from up close, which I thought was rather nice. But Ladender and Vapidi pulled me down, and Ginny said she wanted them to herself—"

“Wanted…?” Harry began, knowing he didn’t really want to finish the question, dead certain he didn’t want an answer.

“Hermione and Blaise, of course. And I thought…” She peered around the room. “Did you not have stripers? Parvati and Lavender swore that you were having stripers—which they very clearly understood to mean _having_ stripers, which I have to imagine means something thoroughly sexual—swore that Seamus and Dean swore that Charlie swore that you’d have them, and that was the only reason that they were able to talk Hermione or Ginny into it. What’s good for the Snoot is good for the Snorkack, you know.”

“Not _stripers_ , Luna. _Strippers_.” Trying not to watch Ron’s face growing dangerously red, trying not to stare at the way the blonde hair was peeking around the crotch of Luna’s pants beneath the useless skirt, Harry said, “Luna. Luna. Our strippers were Fred and George in drag. It was one of the most revolting things I’ve ever seen.”

“Sex. Hermione,” Ron moaned. His eyes snapped to Luna’s; she returned his stare with an equanimity that was all the greater for being utterly inebriated. “Sex. Hermione would _never…_ With Blaise Zabini? Never!”

_With Ginny_ , Harry thought, and in spite of himself, he felt his favorite pet monster stir to life, jealousy and randiness its favorite meals.

Luna blinked at Ron and then pointed at where _Bollocks!_ was flashing over the fish tank. “Your wall doesn’t agree with you, Ronald.” She finished this pronouncement very seriously, but then giggled. “I do think she liked the bit with Ginny best.”

Both men stood, Ron toppling Luna to the ground.

“Wee!” she giggled. “Was sex with the twins fun?”

“I’ll _kill_ him!” Ron bellowed.

Harry nodded, but a part of him wanted to watch for a bit, and _then_ kill them.

“Can’t get in, you know,” Luna said. “Warded. Invitation only. And you know, Ronald, Hermione will only think that you didn’t want her to have what you got. She won’t like that. _Patriarchal, sexist attitude_.” This last was declaimed in so Hermione-like a tone that it brought both Ron and Harry up short. “And you know what Ginny’s like when she’s disappointed, Harry. She’ll be ever so disappointed, I think, if you interrupt. Well, I suppose you didn’t _both_ have sex with your stripers, did—”

“ _We didn’t have sex with my… STRIPPERS, Luna!_ ” Ron yelled, still glaring toward the door.

She winked. Luna Lovegood, of all people, _winked_. “Oh, of course. What a shame. Fred and George. I’ve always rather wanted that experience, myself.” Luna smiled blissfully at Ron and then at Harry. “Well, how lovely! I’m glad that I’ve come after all. I _can_ be your Blaise.”

Harry felt Ron turn with him to look at Luna again. She was sprawled against the chair where Ron had dumped her, legs spread, hair wild. Harry was astonished to see that her wand was still tucked securely behind her ear.

She was unbuttoning what little was left to unbutton of her blouse. “Macho, macho man,” she sang breathily, baring one shoulder and then the other.

“Luna,” Harry said, knowing that he had very little leeway here—if he didn’t do something soon, either Blaise Zabini was going to be the most thoroughly hexed wizard since the end of the war or Luna was going to have more drunken revenge sex coming at her than she could possibly know—

“I rather like having sex with men whose adrenaline is running high,” Luna sighed, removing her blouse and tossing it in Ron’s face. “It’s so exciting. Sex with angry women isn’t anywhere nearly as much fun.”

The bra was semi-transparent too, it seemed, and Harry was fascinated to discover that Luna’s left nipple was pierced.

Dropping to his knees between Luna’s thighs, Ron worked at the blouse that he had balled in his hands. “Is he? Really? Fucking?”

“Oh, yes,” Luna said, wriggling the skirt past her feet, “and Hermione was making that high-pitched sighing _OH-OH-OH_ sound she always makes when Ginny and I come to visit and you and she are off— _OH_!” Aside went the blouse, _rip_ went the brassiere and _slurp_ went Ron’s mouth as he pulled the ringed nipple into his mouth. Harry watched in a kind of fascinated dread as Ron’s hands made Luna’s knickers disappear as effectively as they’d eliminated the bra, and suddenly there was no pretense—Luna Lovegood was quite naked on the floor of their flat, and Ron was moving his thumb up and down her vulva in a manner that caused Luna’s protuberant eyes to cross. “How nice,” she said.

Harry stood there, frozen. Really, he had never been one to lock up. When decisive action was called for, Harry was always the first to commit—a tendency that Ron and Hermione had been trying to rein in for a decade.

Not Ginny. She’d never tried to make him be someone else.

But here he was, watching as one of his best friends diddle one of his fiancée’s best friends, watching her attempting to undo the zipper to his trousers by main force, and he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Stop them? Join them? Go to bed? Go to Parvati and Lavender’s and bay at the windows like a lovesick hound smelling a bitch in heat? Two. _Two_.

Three.

“You know, Harry,” Luna said over Ron’s shoulder—she had apparently opened his fly and was worming her hand in; Ron had switched to the unadorned breast—“Do you know—OH! Goodness, Ronald, what nice hands you have!—I’ve wanted to fuck you both since that train ride up my fourth year, and the thoughts were so clear and I— _MMMM_ —kept laughing, the thought of you both wrapped around me like bread on a sandwich…” Luna’s hands were working manically at Ron’s shirt, but her voice was as calm as always—with occasional outbursts of sexual transport. “And Ginny does say that your mouth is so nice, Harry, I bet it’s as good as _hers_!”

Ron plunged a finger into Luna, causing her back to arch. His long thumb kept up its wild dance at the front of her vulva—which was reddening and slickening as Harry watched.

Harry’s cock was as hard as he could ever remember it being. Ginny had never made him this hard.

He had never forced himself to wait this long with Ginny.

_Mahogany flesh, centaur-long, plunging into pale and pink and copper…_ He shook his head.

“Oh!” Luna said, voice still airy and distracted—and Harry could see a reason for the distraction for a change, as he watched Ron add a second finger. “Do. Come fuck. Harry. _Please_.” She pushed herself up into the chair, yanking Ron by his shirt so that he stood beside her, his crotch at her face level. Harry watched in awe as she drew Ron’s enormous erection out of his trousers.

_Merlin! Not a centaur, but…_

Luna lowered her mouth to that amazing piece of befreckled manhood. Ron threw back his head and groaned, his hands flying to her hair.

Luna began humming “Macho Man” as she slurped him into her mouth. One hand stroked Ron’s cock in time with her lips while the other slipped between her round thighs and began to stroke at her pussy.

Harry had walked in on Ron and Hermione once—they apparently hadn’t had the restraint to make it all of the way back to Ron’s room—but all that Harry had gotten was an eyeful of bountiful, bouncing breasts, since though her blouse had been quite gone they hadn’t removed her skirt. He had only seen one cunt in his life, and it was thin-lipped and topped with a tuft of flame-colored hair.

Luna’s was quite lovely, but very, very different. Exotic and puffy, it seemed to be calling him from across the room while Luna’s pale eyes seemed to plead with him vaguely from the other end of her as her cheeks filled and hollowed.

Ron turned his head toward Harry; his jaw was slack and his eyes wide. “Merlin, Harry. Come on.”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Harry groaned.

“Harry— _Nnnnnnn_ —my bloody sister spread her legs—"

Luna spoke around Ron’s penis. “Actually, she was on all fours. _Hermione_ spread—"

Ron thrust into her mouth.

Harry’s feet led him to the chair. His knees gave way, placing him level with Luna. She smiled and sucked. Ron was beginning to pant.

Harry reached out and ran his thumb up the length of Luna’s lips as Ron had done; she shivered, causing the ring to bounce against her round left breast. Decisiveness flooded back into Harry sure and simple, and with the same certainty with which he had gone off to slay monsters and rescue fair maidens (and others), he bent forward and kissed the nearly hidden bud of Luna’s clit.

They say that smell is the most primal of the senses, connected to the most primitive part of the brain, and so tied closely to memories. Taste is a close second though, and the minute Harry’s tongue began to lap at Luna, her tang sent him back into his mind to another night just before a wedding, one when he’d been slightly less drunk but a lot more anxious. Ginny had talked Ron into switching rooms without telling Harry. He had been about to pull his stupid-and-noble act again, terrified as he was that he wouldn’t be able to let her go if she so much as touched him. She hadn’t touched him, not at first. She had simply removed her clothing. Very slowly. Silently. Her eyes still on his, challenging, pleading, she had climbed into the bed next to him, and waited. She hadn’t had to wait long.

They hadn’t fucked that first night—neither of them felt ready, or at least _Harry_ hadn’t, and Ginny had respected that. But they did explore in other ways, and after she had timidly kissed him to an explosive ejaculation—white droplets like pearls in her hair—he had returned the favor, kissing at her privates and then lapping at them, catlike.

The look of astonishment on Ginny’s face when she had come had filled Harry with more pride and joy than any other single accomplishment that he could remember. Catching the Snitch was nothing to licking her snatch.

Luna’s tasted similar, tangy and tart, but the texture against his tongue, around his fingers was quite different. And the sounds…

Luna loosed a muffled shriek, her cunt pulsing against Harry’s mouth, and Ron howled. Harry knew that howl well, though he’d never been in the same room before when it was bellowed. Harry’s friend collapsed to the floor, his cock splattering come across Luna’s body and Harry’s face. “Merlin,” Ron said, and blinked. “Sorry. Merlin.”

“’S all right,” Harry muttered, wiping his cheek with his sleeve. “Well, that was nice…”

“Oh, no, Harry,” Luna burbled, her eyes bright as Harry had never seen them. “It wouldn’t do for you to leave now. I really do want to make you come, you know.”

“Uh…”

“Also,” she continued, her tone returning to its normal airiness, “I still want someone inside of me.”

“No problem,” grunted Ron. He stood, and Harry was astonished to note that Ron was still hard. He lifted Luna into the air—“Wee!”—sat in her place, and lowered her back onto his lap.

“Oh, how nice,” purred Luna, arranging her knees on either side of his hips and lowered herself onto his stiff, speckled cock. “ _OH_ , yes, _very_ nice!”

Harry began to back away, but Luna arched around toward him. “Well, Harry, what would you like? You can fuck my anus, or Ronald and I can take turns licking you.”

Ron blinked.

“Uh, not that, Luna, no,” sputtered Harry.

“Oh, good,” Luna said. “I’ve always enjoyed anal sex, especially when I’ve got something occupying my vagina. Did you know that that is how the Moldovan Vestals avoid breaking the enchantments that give them their extraordinary power? I’ve never had penises in both at the same time, however.”

Again Harry’s body began moving before his mind had really absorbed the situation, let alone considered the proposition. He had dropped his trousers and shuffled back to where Luna’s plump, moonlike bottom was rising and setting on Ron’s horizon before he had time to think.

“Here,” Luna said, drawing the wand that had miraculously stayed behind her ear and tapping his erection. “Oh, what a lovely penis you have, Harry. It’s just perfect. _Ahhh!_ ” Luna gasped as Ron began nibbling on her nipples.

A silvery glow surrounded Harry’s cock. Touching it, he realized that it was as slick as ice in a warm drink. Lovely or not, its need was urgent. Harry’s monster howled as he reached trembling hands out and touched Luna’s soft, white haunch, stopping her in mid-bounce.

“Oh,” she managed to murmur—Ron was continuing his assault on her breasts—as she turned the wand and cast the same spell on her bum.

Grasping his cock by the base, Harry whimpered as his cock touched Luna’s puckered rear hole, pressed, and pushed through the tight ring of muscle.

“ _MERLIN!_ ” all three of them cried out.

Harry was only a few inches in—two thirds of his cock still waited outside of her bum—but as he began to thrust in as gently as he could manage, he could feel Ron’s cock jumping inside of her vagina through the thin membrane separating the two passages. Harry felt Ron’s huge hands clamp over his own; together they kept Luna still as they began to move together inside of her.

“ _FUCK!_ ” Luna screamed as they began to find a rhythm together, thrusting up into her, front and back. “ _FUCKING FUCK! MERLIN!_ ” Her head was flung back against Harry’s shoulder, her chest against Ron’s face. She was flush from her nipples up, and a string of most un-Luna-like obscenity spewed from her mouth. “ _SHIT! FUCK MY…! FUCK!_ ”

Her bottom was tight; even with the slickening spells it took him two minutes of thrusting before he felt his balls brush against Ron’s and he knew that he was all of the way in.

He and Ginny had tried anal sex twice—once by accident when they’d been fucking for so long that Harry had flipped Ginny, pushed in, and only realized when she squawked that he’d pressed into the wrong entry. In her shock she had squeezed him so hard that, even after three rounds earlier that day, he came instantly. They’d tried it again on his most recent birthday, but while he had loved it, she had complained of discomfort afterwards, and so Harry hadn’t suggested it again.

Luna seemed to be enjoying herself enormously.

Harry was going to have to ask her about that lubrication spell.

That was if he ever had a reason to sleep with Ginny again.

The wedding.

Could they get married now?

Harry loved Ron. He loved Luna, after a fashion—at the moment, his hips slapping against her bottom as Ron’s thighs squeezed Harry’s, he loved her a _lot—_ but even buried in another woman’s bum and with full certainty that she’d had Blaise Zabini buried in _her_ , Harry was certain as he could have been that Ginny was the person he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, that he wanted to have children with, that he could see himself growing old beside, that he could trust to stand beside him in sickness and in health.

_Trust_.

He and Ginny were going to have a _very_ interesting conversation tomorrow. Before the wedding if he could manage it. After if need be.

“ _GuguEWR-AAAAAAAAAAAAAA_!” Luna screamed as Harry and Ron slammed into her from either side. She pulled Harry’s hands from her hips up to her breasts, where Ron was still grazing. Ron’s cock thrusting along the length of Harry’s own. The tight loop of Luna’s arse squeezing him tight, _pulsing_.

A scream answered by two more as first Harry and then Ron poured into Luna’s body.

Breathless, slick, they collapsed.

“Bloody hell,” Ron gasped.

Harry’s softening cock twitched, triggering another spasm through Luna, followed by a giggle. “Bread around a sandwich,” she sighed followed by a last, diffuse, “Wee!”

Harry could feel Ron’s breath hot on his neck as they both laughed limply.

“I hope I can walk for the wedding,” Luna said. “I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

Harry saw Ron’s brow furl, guilt and uncertainty playing across his friend’s broad, open face. Ron and Hermione had never seemed to trust each other or themselves quite as much as Harry and Ginny did. “’S all right, Ron,” Harry said. He kissed the back of Luna’s neck.

“Hmmm,” she murmured. “’I want to be… a macho man…’”

And with that, she passed out.

Harry backed away from her, his softening cock disengaging from her bum with a loud _plop_. Luna shuddered and curled tighter around Ron.

Ron, who was panting, staring wide-eyed at Harry. “Merlin. Harry. We just… Hermione’ll _kill_ me.”

“You can take turns killing each other,” Harry said, trying to calm the tumult in his own chest.

“I… How can we get…?”

“Talk to her, Ron. They’re going to feel just as horrid as we do.”

“But we aren’t supposed to… Before the…”

“Talk to her.”

Ron nodded, “Yeah. _Talk_.” He looked up at Harry over Luna’s slumped head, his face contorted as if he were working on a particularly challenging chess problem. “I just… I couldn’t stand it if… She doesn’t handle booze well, Hermione. I know she only did it ‘cause she was drunk and ‘cause she thought I…” Ron blinked and stroked Luna’s back, then grinned and looked back up at Harry. “I… I’ve always wanted to…”

In spite of the nagging sobriety that was creeping over him, Harry smiled. Luna’s face was slack on Ron’s shoulder; naked on his friend as she was, Harry found to his surprise that she was quite beautiful. “Yeah,” he said. “That was pretty amazing. I’ve always wondered what it would be like with her.”

“Oh. Yeah. That too,” Ron said, and then, for some reason, blushed. “Think we should Floo her home?”

“Let’s put her in my bed. I’ll kip out here.” Harry murmured, his eyes still moving over Luna’s form. “If the girls come over… Well, I wake faster than you do.”

“True,” Ron said with a weak grin. He stood, still holding her.

Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. “‘I want to live at the Y… M…’” She buried her face in Ron’s neck and fell back to snoring.

“Need a hand?”

“No,” Ron sighed, shifting his hands to her bum. “Harry… Do you…? Are we going to be okay?”

“Yeah, Ron,” Harry sighed, righting the sofa and conjuring a blanket. “Brilliant.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was different!
> 
> I adapted this fic as a piece of original erotica, [Folding Herself In](https://stillpointeros.com/product/folding-herself-in).


End file.
